Wounds [Bellamy Blake]

Go [Chapter 54]

                "There." Bjorn growled.

                I saw a flash of brown hair, blue clothing.

                Octavia.

                "Don't shoot." I told Bjorn before jumping into the river and crossing to the other side. I began to run towards Octavia, who was running, but not as fast as me. I was gaining on her, but before I reached her, she turned and stared at me. Both eyes were filled with tears, her face angry and with more hatred in it than I had ever seen before even after Bellamy had tortured Lincoln. She pointed at me, her hand quivering.

                "You." She growled.

                "Octavia, what the hell is wrong?"

                "What are you doing with him?" She asked, shaking her head, "Betraying my brother?!"

                "Oh yeah, because you haven't done that more than once."

                "This is not about me." She snapped, "How dare you go behind his back... He has been nothing but good to you."

                "He's fucking Raven."

                "No he isn't." She argued, "He adores you, he wouldn't do that."

                "Yeah, well, I thought so too until I saw them together this morning."

                Octavia dropped her shoulders, believing me and seeming disappointed in her brother. She didn't want to accept any more than I did, but I had come to terms with it now. Glancing over my shoulder, I could see Bjorn on the other side of the river, waiting to see what would happen. I was sure that over the rush of the rapids that he could not hear us on this side of the river.

                "Look, I love Bellamy and he knows it." I told her, "But he doesn't love me back, and he clearly doesn't care about the one thing I asked from him... I- I think it is done between us."

                She stared at me, as if waiting for more.

                "It doesn't matter now. What's important is that we leave, try to survive the winter, try to escape the Grounders."

                "Lincoln said to go East."

                "Bjorn too." I said, "If we hit the ocean, we will be far from Reapers, Outlaws, Grounders... Mountain Men."

                "There was a hunting party sent out a few hours ago, once we have gathered the food, and convinced Bellamy, we will leave." She said, a dash of hope in her eyes. "Maybe... Maybe we will find Lincoln."

                I placed a hand on her shoulder, "I hope so."

                She lowered her eyes and nodded, then proceeded to glance up at Bjorn, who was still on the other side of the river. "You trust him?"

                "Yes." I said, "More than... Well, I don't know who I can trust other than him."

                She narrowed her eyes, "Ava, Bellamy... he has always been like this. He will never let anything or anyone hurt you."

                "He hurt me." I ended the conversation, "Go back to camp, Octavia."

                When I arrived back by Bjorn, crossing the river and soaking my boots through again, Octavia was long gone. Though I worried about her safety as I had been attacked only an hour prior, I wanted to clear some final things up with Bjorn. We had parted twice before with the awareness that one of us would be dead in the next twenty-four hours, but both times had found each other again. I could hardly think this time would be any different, though they say the third time is the charm.

                "Why did you fuck me?" He asked when I returned, "When I've seen the way you look at the other."

                I widened my eyes, surprised that he would bring up Bellamy. "Well, I don't mean to sound pathetic, but he... he hurt me."

                "How?" He sounded defensive.

                "By sleeping.... Fucking- another."

                "And that is frowned upon?"

                "I asked him to be with only me." I explained, wondering if Grounders knew about closed relationships, or if they were more open. "We had a fight, and he was with another."

                "And so have you."

                I flushed, "You have a certain charm, Bjorn."

                "Thanks." He sounded disgruntled now, "You only come to me because you have been hurt."  

                "No..." I had backed myself into a corner now.

                "Go back to him." He said, "You've both had your fun, tell him you never want to see him again or tell him you love him."

                I was confused for a moment; was Bjorn giving me advice on love and relationships?

                "There are too many threats to your life out here to let something like that walk away from you."

                "You've lost someone." I realized.

                He tensed, "I have."

                "It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all."

                "Doubtful."

                I placed my hand on Bjorn's cheek, "I don't want you to think I've used you."

                "I do not."

                "Will you leave, as Lincoln did?"

                "That's my choice to make." He said, "And it is a choice I do not know I can make."

                "Whatever happens, I want you to be safe." I promised him, "I presume you know what will be best for you."

                "If it eases your mind."

                Bjorn wrapped his arm around the small of my back and quickly brought his lips down to mine; before this kiss any of our connections had been purely lust and passion, but now I felt something else radiating from him. It was not love, I knew what love felt like. Though it did make me wonder what I had done to rub off on him and make him kiss me like I mattered. As he pulled back, I realized that many times Bellamy had kissed me like that; I did matter to Bellamy, no matter what we did behind each other's backs in the last day. My chest felt tight, as if compressing my heart smaller and smaller. I did love Bellamy, and he cared about me more than anyone. I cared about Bjorn, but in a way very different. My mind was spinning as I tried to figure it out; this would not play out with ease.

                "Go." He said to me for the last time, crossing his strong arms over his chest and watching as I took off towards the camp without looking back; I had a lot to tell Bellamy when I returned.

If possible, could people stop harrassing me about the way I'm writing my story? My characters, my story, my plot, my writing. If you don't like it, you are fully entitled to an opinion, but you don't need to tell me that opinion on EVERY chapter. If you dislike Bjorn, I got it the first time, but that doesn't change how I am going to write MY story. Sorry, just had to rant cause I got a lot of flack on the last chapter about having them sleep together. Boohoo. My story.